


Elle est petit oiseau c'est la faute à Rousseau

by Robi1832



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Enjolras, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Multi, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, POV Enjolras, POV Grantaire (Les Misérables), Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad with a Happy Ending, Trans Enjolras, Transphobia, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:28:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robi1832/pseuds/Robi1832
Summary: Enjolras left a meeting after a violent argument with Grantaire. Taking a walk to calm down, he has to go in the dark streets while it's night. A man assault him and his secret is about to be revealed.He has to hide his birthsex and go in a self place to think about this unplanned pregnancy without telling his friends.
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac/Jean Prouvaire, Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 27





	1. Le calme avant la tempête.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is what I think will be a long story. I'll put warnings at the begining of the chapters if i understand how to do that (yes I'm a grand mother with technology) so you know when the violent parts are. For exemple for the first one there's no graphic violence, or I don't think so.  
> I set this story in United States (why? I don't know, I'm not even from there). Also, English is not my first language so I'm sorry about the mistakes, please tell me if there are grammatical or syntaxe' s problems so I can get better.
> 
> The first chapter can be considered as a prologue, it could not exist and the story would be the same without it (almost) so don't judge the story based on this only chapter please.
> 
> Now, enjoy !

The backroom of le Café Musain was soundproof and for the first time Grantaire thought about it and wished it wasn't.

  
Because it would mean everyone would hear them shouting and be annoyed by that. Then, someone would come to ask them to leave and he would escape this fight. But no one would come because no one could hear them and he had to go on with the shouting.  
He wanted it to stop. Yes, to stop. And finally, he would be able to go to the Corinthe, his favorite pub in this part of town, and drink untile he forget all about this. Not that he was sober, no, and that was already a part of the argument, but that would definitely help. Or he hoped so.

The fight wasn't really different from the others : Blondie-angel was telling a speech about human rights and a better world (again), it was ridiculously full of passion and hope (again), and Grantaire stopped taking this seriously (again), and the conflict started between the cynic and the believer (again).

And as well, it was near the end of the year. Grantaire was drunk at every levels because he was sure he would fail his winter's exams and that meant he would lose the only support his family gave him. Even if he hated his parents, he couldn't bear losing the last contact he had with them. And for Enjolras, he was overstressed and sleep deprived already because of his study. With all that, the argument was quickly out of proportions. They were shouting louder and louder while the rest of les amis remained silent, waiting anxiously for the final word they knew would be terrible.

  
At first Courfeyrac tried to intervene, telling them not to do that, but they both, in a rare moment of complicity, yelled at him to shut up. That's when Combeferre took his turn and tried to resonate Enjolras. He was the only one able to do that without succombing to an immediate death caused by a mortal glare. He used the usually efficient argument about how their fight created a delay in the ABC's schedule, but Enjolras contre-argued almost immediatly saying it was as important to make another soul believe in the Cause, and that was what he was doing with R. Then Jehan almost beg them to stop, tears in their eyes, said they couldn't hold all this violence. After five minutes, les amis ceased trying to stop the unavoidable and waited.

" For the people, Grantaire ! How many times do I need to tell you this ?! Can't you understand that what we are doing here is to help the people to be in a better world by every meaning of this term !"  
Enjolras was in the center of the room, looking directly at Grantaire. He was in all his glory : the head high, his cheeks slightly pink and his golden hair made of him a living paint of a saint. 'He really looks like a god' the drunk man thought. He looked exhausted though, black circles underlined his eyes. But it didn't take off any of his beauty, on the contrary, it made the fire and passion in this unique shade of icy blue that were his eyes more powerful and beautiful. If Grantaire wasn't standing and shouting too, he would sketch it instantly.

But he was, and beside the passion and the beauty that made him fall in love with their fearless leader, he couldn't let the man talk about something he didn't know anything about. A bitter laugh escaped his lips in the middle of Enjolras' ranting about the importance of the uprising of the people.

  
"You're so fucking funny, Apollo, you know?"  
"Don't call me that." he snapped  
"Why ? Everyone is listening and following you, don't you like it ?"  
"I am not a god, Grantaire, I'm only a human who would genuinely appreciate if you could just not put me on a pedestal."  
"But this is the point, ô fearless leader, you're already on one. Come on, look at you: a rich young and pretty boy from a powerful and careful family. You don't know what it is to worry constantly about having a roof to sleep under, a job to keep going in life even if you feel like drowning. You don't know what it is to have a shitty family that doesn't get along with your own shitty brain that leads you to this shitty life where the only thing helping me not to be too depressed is to drink and drink again ! You don't know anything about this and you don't even care enough to ask about it ! All you do is watch and judge, but you don't know anything !"

  
Grantaire was breathless, he had let out every bitter and angry thoughts, everythings he had kept for so much time. But he wasn't relieved, not yet. He looked directly at Enjolras but instead of the guilt he was waiting for, he saw the man's face becoming incredibly sad and hurted. He finished his bottle of wine (the third one of the evening) not loosing eye contact.

  
"I'm really sorry to hear that, Grantaire." And it seemed he was honest. That didn't help Grantaire.  
"I don't want your pity." he snorted "I just want you to understand it's not because you think something that everyone has to believe in it."  
"I never thought that, I would never ! I hope you all know that." He looked at all of les amis one by one, who, beside Combeferre, avoided his eyes. They were there because they wanted to, of course, but they couldn't deny the power of the leader's words. Enjolras looked desperate. "I just want to help, I don't want the people to think they are alone with their problems. I want them to know we are here !"  
"But it's pointless ! There will always be new problems and you won't change anything !"  
"We have to try !"

  
And the usual fight started again. The cynic against the believer. New arguments in addition to old ones. Grantaire couldn't understand how Enjolras could have so much hope and faith in his cause.Couldn't he see it was lost even before it started ? It wasn't possible for a simple person, no matter if they were as charismatic and clever as Enjolras, to change the whole world. Grantaire was sick, sick of all this hope, sick of all his love for this man with a heart big enough to love the entire world but too cold to understand a single man's feelings. He was sick, finally, of all of his friends looking at him in pity. He stopped looking at them and foccused completly on Enjolras' eyes and words. So many, many words, cuting, biting, hurting on both sides. It wasn't about the cause anymore, the argument had turned personnal. Alcoholic, obsessed with work, pathetic pessimist, incapable of any social links... insults were going on and on, and the others were too afraid to stop them.

  
At some point, Enjolras decided he had had enough.  
"Grantaire, stop it ! Why are you still arguing and trying to convince me ! You are a cynic and a sceptic. You are incapable of thinking, of willing, of living and of dying."

He stopped, blinked a few times. The room was dead silent, Jehan was crying quiet sobs while Feuilly was hugging them, glaring at Enjolras. Combeferre tried to grab the blond' s hand but he was too far. Instead he whispered. "Enj..." Enjolras took two steps back, ran a shaking hand through his golden curls and stared weirdly at Grantaire, seeming to come back to reality.  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. God, R, I'm so sorry." he stuttered "I didn't mean... I don't think that ! I.. I didn't want to..."  
"What ?" Snapped Grantaire "To say that? You did, Enjolras, you did."

To say his name sounded weird in his mouth but Grantaire was done. Enjolras never apologied but he didn't notice that, he didn't want to make any effort, not anymore. He wanted to bite hard, for Enjolras to understand how poisonous his tongue was, and, oh he wanted another drink so much.

"You did and you meant it" he started again, ignoring his friends whispering him to not make it worse. "Why are you letting me here if I'm such a burden to you, huh ?!"  
"Grantaire, I didn't..."  
"You know what ?", he cut Enjolras, "Screw it, I don't care. Go on ! Make your wonderful speech, promise them a magic world where everyone is happy and there is no pain, kiss kiss and fluffy teddybears ! Forgive me if I'm the only one not believing in it but at least, I won't be the one you'll bring to death."

He knew he would regret this after but for now all he could think of was how unfair this all was. Enjolras didn't know anything about how he struggled in his shitty life. The man had a wonderful family, two brothers of heart, a group of friends that shared the same passion and ideals. Life was so unfair, he hated himself, he hated Enjolras, he loved him.  
While he was pining he didn't notice Enjolras had been packing his stuff and was ready opening the door. He sighed.  
"Apollo, wait..."  
"No, Grantaire," it was just a murmure but the room was so silent everyone heard it perfectly, "I don't know if you're right and I don't want to shout at you again so... yeah." And he left.

Yeah, Grantaire fucked up. God, He wished he had an other drink.  



	2. Dans l'oeil de l'ouragan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a graphic description of rape. Please do not read it if you are not comfortable with this. The scene starts at "Enjolras swallowed hard" and finished at "there was no sound apart from his own breathing" but that doesn't mean there is comfort after. There is also a lot of homophobic and transphobic language, it's, of course, not at all what i think, only what i heard and i do not caution that.  
> More informations at the end of the chapter.

"I will not be the one you'll bring to death !"

Blood was pounding in his ears but Enjolras could still hear the sentence over and over. It was true, wasn't it ? Enjolras was so concern about his cause, he was prepared to die for it. But could he force his friends to help him ? He was sure they were there because they wanted to fight too (of course not to die, he would never ask that).

But after what happened, after seeing them so silent and avoiding his eyes... Did he do something wrong ? Was he, while talking about the problem of countries that weren't free because of wrong political systems, making himself wrong propaganda ? Did he really have the right to give them hope when he wasn't sure himself they could win the cause ? And which cause ? Grantaire was right, there were so many problems in the world, he was a fool trying to solve them all, but he couldn't bear to aknowledge them and then to do nothing. It was everything he had. If he couldn't fight for the people, how could he fight for himself and his friends ?

Enjolras was going through all this kind of thoughts while walking down the streets. He didn't tell the others were he was going, he didn't know either. They probably supposed he was getting back to the flat he shared with Courf' and 'Ferre. He could, but he wouldn't, not now. He needed to clean his brain and for that he had to walk. He knew his city by heart so he didn't take care of the streets he was going to. He would always manage to find his way back latter. And so he went back in his mind, in his turming bubbles of thoughts.

What hurted the most, Enjolras had to admit it to himself, wasn't the unbelieveness in the the cause, it was painful sure, but he was pretty used to it by now. No, what hurted the most was that it was Grantaire.

He knew the man was a sceptic and an alcoholic who was mocking him and his ideals all the time. They were always arguing, but it would be a lie to deny that Enjolras enjoyed it. Of course it was unnerving but it was so revigoring at the same time. The man was so smart, Enjolras was amazed by his intelligence, by the way he formulated his sentences, by his lazzy smile, his sad green eyes, fogged with alcohol but so wide and always ready to welcome a little spark of joy. This man was beautiful both inside and outside.

Yes, Enjolras was in love with Grantaire. And this love was consuming him now he was sure Grantaire hated him.

At first, he thought the man reciprocated his feelings, it was two years ago. But before he could do anything about that, he saw Grantaire and a girl kissing and he knew he was doomed. There was no way the man could love him, a broken man stuck in a girl body.

He never told anyone about his condition of birth, his friends all assumed he was a modest man. He was lucky enough to have met them at a time when he wasn't forced to act like a girl anymore. That was also the last time he talked to his parents. His father had kicked him out as soon as it was legally possible, not wanting to take care anymore of a not good enough daughter. Well, take care...

_"Marie-Jeanne, in my office, now."_   
_Enjolras left his room where he was hiding for two hours. He didn't want to confront his father, he heard at his voice he was really angry and even if Enjolras was almost eighteen, he was still scared of the man._   
_It had been three years now since he tried to explain to his parents they didn't have a daughter but a son, one year of fighting, two of denying. It was like Enjolras never said anything. The only proof it happened was how cold his mother grew and how his father didn't talk to him anymore except in his office to shout at him._   
_Enjolras entered the room a little bit shaking. He tried his best to not look as terrified as he felt. He knew he was in big trouble. His mother had found him putting bandages around his chest and, of course, she told everything to his father._   
_"Comprends-tu la raison de ta convocation?" He was talking french, not a good sign at all. The Enjolras' family was originaly from France but they moved in America when he was five. He never forget the language but his father didn't use it anymore but to talk to his family back there or when he was mad at Enjolras. It was his own way to say 'Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.'_   
_"Oui, Monsieur." He answered quietly_   
_"Alors tu sais ce que je pense de ce comportement ?" He was too calm._   
_"Oui, Monsieur." Enjolras repeated. And the shouting started._   
_"Then why are you so stubborn and always disappointing me ?!"_   
_"I..." started Enjolras, his eyes wide._   
_"Do. Not. Interrupt me ! I'll say this in english because last time you didn't understand me well. You are such a disgrace to your name, Marie-Jeanne Enjolras ! I am sick of your pervert little game !You have to stop it and go back to normal !"_   
_"I can't change my own identity, Father." Enjolras snapped. He immediately regretted his words. It was the truth but it was pointless with his father._   
_"It's not your identity, you are a girl, that's it! Stop hiding yourself behind this disgusting fantasy !"_   
_"The girl is only the frontage." It was just a murmure._   
_"You are hideous. You are not my daughter and I would disown you if it wasn't for my reputation at my work ! As soon as you graduate to college you'll leave the house and I don't want to see you again untile you are sane and back to yourself. I didn't raise you to humiliate us in your madness ! After everything we did, we took care of you..."_

Enjolras let out a small and sad laugh, the sound taking him back to reality. He looked around him like he just awoke. He blinked to erase the last image of the memory and stopped to see where he was.

It was almost night when he left the Musain and now it was really dark. He looked at his watch, it was half past eleven. He had to lead home. Even if his flatmates were on a date tonight and probably coming back late, he didn't want to worry them. And he didn't feel secure himself.

He turned on his feet and tried to find his way back. He was all alone, each step echoing in the empty streets. It was getting so cold he could see his breath and feel his hair becoming wet and curling even more.

He was mid-way when he heard another sound than himself or some cat for the first time. It was other human steps that were barrely making a sound so Enjolras assumed it was far behind him. He didn't stop to check out though, he was not that stupid, instead he started to walk faster. He heard the footsteps behind him getting faster too and the anxiety he was feeling untile then turned slowly in real panic. He moved quickly his head to take a glance at the one following him. It didn't help him to feel any better.

The person seemed to be a man, he was taller than him (and Enjolras was already tall) and way more muscular too. It was all Enjolras managed to see. He didn't really want to know more and the man was clearly much closer than he previously thought. Enjolras was walking as fast as he could but it was not enough, and he understood that too late. A hand grabbed the back of his coat and suddenly he was against another body. The terror he felt made him freeze, unable to speak. He felt against his neck the breathing of the other one as the man started to speak in his ear.

"What are you doing here all alone, pretty boy ? You could get in trouble, someone could want your money."  
Enjolras swallowed hard and found enough of his voice to answer.  
"I... I don't have money."  
"You look too rich for this lie to be real, pretty boy." Fuck the damn red coat.  
"I swear, Sire..."  
"Shhh, don't worry, I don't want your money." The man put his arms around Enjolras' chest, immobilizing him, and took a deep breath in his hair. "No..." he started again "a boy as pretty as you deserve a special treatment, don't you think that ?" And while he was talking he let his hands run on the blond's chest, then his belly and slowly, so slowly it was like fate, under Enjolras' belt.  
"No, please" Tried Enjolras as the man took off the blond's coat and was begining to do the same with his jeans. He felt some tears falling on his cheeks.  
"That's good, beg again." This was against everything Enjolras stood for. He never begged, but in time like this, there were no point in being proud. He didn't think twice.  
"Please, Sire, I don't want it." As he finished his sentence, he felt his jeans falling on his feet. The man then slipped his hands under his shirt and pressed himself more against the blond's back. Enjolras asked every divinity he knew to stop this nightmare. The man was approaching his secret. But no one heard his quiet scream, no one came to help, to make it stop, and the man reached the bandages.  
"You little slut, you are less innocent than I thought. You are already prepared to play with me."  
"No !" Enjolras cried.  
"Silence ! You play the man but you are just a bitch like everyone of your type. You are disgusting, no one would ever want you. But you are lucky, you are the only one here, so I agree to have you, and your hideous personality. In exchange..." He let his hands fall in Enjolras' underwear, "You will make me feel so good..."  
"No please, Sire. I never... have never" The man laughed.  
"A virgin slut ? This is entertaining, I'm gonna have so much fun with you" And be pushed Enjolras on the ground.  
The blond started to crawl in a vague hope to escape this hell but he was too slow and too short at the same time. And furthermore, the shock nearly made him pass out.

After a moment that seemed too long and too short for Enjolras, he was turned to face the man who fell on his knees above him. He was trapped, he couldn't move, the man had grabbed his wrists and started to lay on him, his jeans at his ankles.

Enjolras closed his eyes, he didn't want to aknowledge what was happening. Unfortunately, he couldn't block his feelings as well as his vision. Cold tears were covering his face while the man was bluntly penetrating him. A sour pain ran all over his body. A little cry escaped Enjolras' mouth.  
"Shut up you bitch !" groaned the man, slapping the blond's face. And he became more violent in his moves, back and forth, always wanting more from Enjolras' body.

The lattest re-opened his eyes, fixed them on a rock a few feet away and, trying to separate his mind from his body, waited. He waited for the pain to leave his body. He waited for the man to let go off him. He waited for his body to be free again. He waited for this nightmare to stop. And he waited for an eternity. He felt like his body was crushed under too much heaviness. It was so long he ended up feeling empty. At some point he stopped crying, and stayed like that, lying like a dead corpse.

And then, suddenly, it all stopped. The man stood up, dressed himself, spited on Enjolras' face and left with those last words :  
"You slut, you are so dirty no wander why no one ever wanted you."

The second after, Enjolras was all alone in the street. There was no sound apart from his own breathing. He waited, not daring to hope it was over. He stayed like that, out of reality, his brain not willing to process what happened yet.

There was an annoying noise around. He tried to see from where it was but he saw nothing. He sat to take a better look, the noise was stronger but there was still nothing. He tried to stand up, fell once, twice, each time with a detached feeling. Then he realised it was because of his clothes at his ankles. He put them back in place, ignoring the dark liquid between his thights, and finally, he succeeded to stand. He took a few weak steps, grabbed his coat and would have fall again if it wasn't for the wall on his right.

And he left the cursed street letting his feet lead him. The noise was following him. He didn't saw what was around him, vaguely aware of where he was. He went before a pub. There was a group of people a little bit older than him who were laughing loudly. When they saw him they cheered him up, convinced he was drunker than them. Enjolras didn't look at them, barrely noticed the sound of the cheering, entirely foccused on the weird noise that was following him.

And then he was alone again, walking down the streets, his feet finding the way by themselves. After a while, he was in front of his building.He stared at the entry code for long seconds. The time was written on it, it was past midnight. He typed the code, came in, and climbed the stairs. His steps were following the noise' s rythm. And then he was in front of his door. Enjolras took his keys and opened the door in a mechanical gesture. He entered the empty flat, then his room. The noise was so much stronger, he couldn't hear anything else. He sat on his bed and focalised on the sound, let it become everything he knew. Enjolras took a deep shaking breath.

The noise missed a beat. And all of a sudden, he came back to reality. He was in his flat alone, the annoying noise was his own heart and he had been... The tears started falling again in heavy sobs. He felt dirty. He wanted to erase every things that could make him remember what happened. He went to the bathroom and pulled up his clothes, throwing them away on the ground. He took a cold shower, he didn't want comfort, just to erase the memory. He washed his hair four times in a row, almost teared off his own skin by rubbing it. He wanted to take of the smell and the feeling of the other man' s hands, his body, his...

Enjolras left the shower with regret and began to brush his teeth again and again and again. If he could he would change his body. But he couldn't. He took new clothes to cover himself, he couldn't stand his reflection anymore. He was disgusting, he had to hide.

The clothes were still on the ground. He took them and put them in the trash. Then he cleaned his hands two times, three times. When he came back to his room he saw the mark on his bed from where he was sitting earlier. Before he knew what he was doing, he took off the sheets and put them in the washer. When everything was done, he stood there in his room, shaking from head to toes, not quite sure what to do next.

The clock announced thirty four past two. Enjolras realised Courf' and 'Ferre could come at any moment. He couldn't stand to talk to them, to explain what he had done. Not now. They would find out and then they'll understand he is just a liar and a slut. Who could want to have any contact with such a failure as him ?

He left quickly the room, turned off every lights, came back and turned off his own light. When he closed his door he heard the front one opening and two laughing men coming in. Enjolras let himself fall on the floor, the back against the door and listened to his two happy friends. Combeferre was shushing Courfeyrac each time he was too exited by what he was saying. Which means he was shushing a lot. They were lightly drunk and Enjolras knew they would go quickly to their room.

He was right, three minutes after, he heard their door closing. Enjolras stayed as he was. He was exhausted but he couldn't sleep. He wanted to disappear, to hide from the world. And so he stayed awake, his eyes fixated on the clock but not looking at it. He locked his mind and tried to figure how to avoid any contact with his friends for the next days.

He did what he was the best at. He made a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are victim of any kind of assault please tell someone. It's never your fault, as I said, you are a victim. You don't have to feel ashame, you agressor has to feel ashame. Please take care of yourself.


	3. Quand on en revient au presque normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no violence in there "just" self esteem issues and alcohol abuse mentioned, but it's not too hard.

It's been two weeks since the argument with Enjolras happened and Grantaire still hadn't seen the blond man.

He wished he could forget the terrible things he had said this night at the Musain but the black out went only for after, when he drank himself to death at the Corinthe. The next day he was in a so bad hangover he couldn't get out of his bed. And he wasn't even thinking about going to college. He was glad it was a wednesday because he had only two lectures on this day and he could always ask Jehan and Feuilly about them (a bonus for being an art and classical letters major).

It was the day after he realised something was wrong. He went to his classes as usual and everything was okay but then, at lunch, he could only notice the empty sit. Enjolras was missing.

But it couldn't be. Enjolras had never missed a day for the two years he knew him. The man prefered to destroy himself with exhaustion and an addiction to coffee than to miss a class. And when Grantaire had asked Joly about it, his friend had told him he was already absent the day before. Two days, it was a record for the blond man. If only Grantaire knew. 

Enjolras missed a whole week. And he missed two meetings. He pretexted a bad flue and he refused to let anyone see him. Even Joly and Combeferre, the both students in medicine, were not allowed to see him. He barricaded himself in his room taking his meals and the notes about class and recovery from his friends only when he was alone. Everyone had tried at some point to talk to him without success. 

Except Grantaire. He didn't try, he felt too guilty about that night. Of course Enjolras hadn't been the nicest and calmest one in the room, he had been wrong too, but he had apologised and Grantaire didn't stopped, he did worse. 

He felt so guilty, he wanted to apologise again and again, but he didn't know how so he decided to hide instead. It was the third meeting since the argument. One week since Enjolras started to go again to his lecture even if he was avoiding any sociable interactions except for a few words exchanged with some of les amis. Grantaire knew he was a coward, he didn't try to talk to Enjolras and it seemed the latest was avoiding him too. 

But there he was, at the door of the Musain fifteen minutes in advance waiting desperatly to see his Apollo again. He wanted to do well so he didn't ask for alcohol, instead he decided to have a coffee, and remained silent. He waited. He waited for Enjolras to come and prove he was still the fearless leader ready to fight for humanity, he was still this god among the mundanes. 

After five minutes the door opened and Grantaire tried to not be too disappointed to see it was Joly and Bossuet coming in advance to spend time with Musichetta during her break. But short after the triumvirat entered and he was glad he wasn't alone with them. 

Usually they would come in talking quietly but fiercly, they would always have the same place : Enjolras in the middle, Combeferre on his right and Courfeyrac on his left and their foreheads almost touching. Now it was nothing like that and it was scarry. 

Combeferre and Courfeyrac entered side by side, murmuring furiously and throwing worried glances behind them where Enjolras was. When the latest appeared in Grantaire's sight, the brunet chocked on his coffee. The man was like a shadow of himself. His gaze which was before proud and confident, abled to scare any of his oponents, was now shy and afraid, glued on his feet. His arms were crossed but more in a holding posture than a arguing one. He was completely silent and looked more exhausted than ever. His face had lost all of its colors bar of the deep black circles under his eyes. His lips often in a shy smile around his flatmates were simply closed showing no feelings. As he managed his way to the backroom of the Musain where Grantaire was, he avoided any contact as if a human touch could break him. He sat at the table opposed to Grantaire's and took his flyers and notes, oblivious to the concern of his friends. 

Bahorel and Feuilly arrived a few minutes after. The first one was pouting while the other was laughing histerically for what seemed to be the story behind Bahorel's new black eye. 

Grantaire saw Enjolras looking for the new noise. At the same time, Bahorel clapped his hands on the blond's shoulders and said "Good to have you back, chief !". Then he sat at a table not to far. 

Grantaire could swear he saw panic on the leader's face at the touch and when, by a mysterious hasard, they locked their gaze, Grantaire felt his heart break in his chest. There was something missing, there were no more spark in his eyes, no more passion, no more fire, no more belief, and if Grantaire wasn't this afraid already he would say no more life. 

The guilt he felt. It was unbearable. Grantaire wanted to go back two weeks ago and punch himself. How could he have done that ? He wanted a drink. To drink and forget everything about this empty eyes that used to be full of life. He wanted to drink so bad... But he couldn't, not after what happened last time. He needed to be sober and to be able to controle himself tonight. 

And maybe, maybe it will help to fix everything ? Yes, that was a good plan. Grantaire would try to fix this. If it worked he would drink after to celebrate and if it didn't he could always drink to remember how much of a failure he is. He would drink after, but for now it was out of the question. 

Grantaire was deep in his thoughts, unaware of what was happening around him and definitely anaware he was still staring in a creepy way at Enjolras when Jehan and Eponine both sat at his side and started to talk to him.

"Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind, Shakespeare. You were starring again my friend." commented Jehan.  
"And with a face like that I can bet you creeped the shit out of him."  
"Thank you Eponine, I love to hear your opinion toward the ungracefull protuberance I use as a head." Grantaire replied with sarcasm.  
"I was talking about blondie's face , smartass, not yours."  
"Now, Eponine, am I sensing a little bit of sympathy for my face ?"  
"Shut up, R." 

And Grantaire smiled because despite the odd situation, his best friend was still her older self. Not that the others thought the long absence of Enjolras was his fault, no. But his absence indeed had made everyone a bit tense. Even Marius and Cosette who were usually too much into their lovebirds' songs to notice anything had stopped and showed worried faces at the last meeting when they saw their fearless leader was still not there.

"Still," Jehan's soft voice cut Grantaire's thoughts. "he is not really here, is he? I mean, there is something wrong, like a darkness around him. I don't like his aura."  
"Yeah... I see what you mean there." Grantaire agreed. 

And he would have started to ramble about his concern for his Apollo if it wasn't for the last members of the group's arrival. He saw Cosette's smile grew wide at the sight of Enjolras and quickly disappear, eyes in chock as she realised how bad he looked. She saluted them all with Marius and they sat, holding hands, but the gesture looked like they were more comforting each other. 

As they were all here, the silence fell and everyone looked at Enjolras expecting from him to open the meeting. For the last ones, it was Combeferre who had leaded them. Even if he was good at this job it wasn't the same. Now Combeferre was watching Enjolras too, a hand in the air like he didn't know if he could put it on his friend's shoulder but it wasn't possible to put it down either. 

The blond man was oblivious to the akward silence around him, his mind lost in a pamphlet he was currently reading. After a minute that seemed like forever, Combeferre cleared discretly his throat causing his friend to look at them and realise what was happening.

"Right. Sorry." He looked lost for a second.  
"Don't worry" interverned Jehan "It might have been a really interesting pamphlet." They smiled and the room seemed to warm up. "It's good to see you again. How are you feeling?"  
Enjolras was taken aback by the simplicity of the question, he looked at their red-haired friend like he didn't quite understand.  
"I'm fine." A pause. "So..." he started again. He took a deep breath and Grantaire could see the man was trying to compose himself. When he succeeded, more or less, he went on. " 'Ferre told me what you did during the last meetings. Sorry I wasn't there, as I told some of you, I was sick. But I'm better now." He looked around as if he was defying them to tell otherwise. "So, if I'm correct you were discussing a way to take action for the homeless people. I don't know if you brought it up, so tell me if you did, but I would suggest to extend it to the the people with a house that is not really a home and at an inhuman cost, if you see what I mean." They all nodded. "What would you say then ?" 

If at first his voice was hesitant, it quickly grew strong and confident as it always have been. Or that's what les amis believed. But Grantaire had noticed, and he could tell Combeferre had too, that their leader had just put a mask on. 

As the group started to debate on the best way to help the homeless people, Grantaire kept his mouth shut and watched closely their leader. Could really his hard words had done that ? His hands started to shake but he wasn't sure if it was because of the lack of alcohol or his guilt. 

He knew Enjolras was avoiding his gaze, he never looked at him once despite Grantaire's eyes fixed on him in an effort to read the blond's mind. He was so foccused on the leader he wasn't listening anymore to the meeting. He let his friends' voices become a background noise and so he didn't notice when one of them said his name. Or when they all started to talk about him and his contribution. He wouldn't have noticed at all if it wasn't for Enjolras, standing in the middle of the room, who looked straight at him for the first time and said. 

"What do you think Grantaire ? Are you in ?"

Grantaire blinked a few times and looked around him trying to get a clue about what they were asking him to do. They were all looking at him with an amused annoyance, knowing all too well where his thoughts were. Jehan, which was now sitting on Courfeyrac's laps, a hand distractedly caressing Combeferre's neck titled their head, their boyfriends both raised an eyebrow in a questioning look. It was almost like a ridiculous picture from a "B" movie. He cleared his throat. 

"I'm sorry, I was... erm... lost in my mind. What are you asking me to do ?" 

A little sigh escaped Enjolras' mouth. Good, if Grantaire was still able to get under his skin then it wasn't all lost. 

"We agreed flyers would be a good way to start a fund-raising and a collect of clothes, food, necessary tool... and we were wondering if you could make the design." Combeferre explained.  
"Oh. Yeah, sure. I need to find some ideas and sketch it. I'll bring what I'll do next meeting ?"  
"Perfect." replied Enjolras, "While you do that I'll write the informations about the current situation of homeless people and how people can actually help. Anymore questions ?" The room was silent. "I call it the end of the meeting then." 

He sat and started to take his stuff as if wanted to leave. Grantaire watched not quite sure what to do. All of their friends were talking in small groups, not looking at them. He could do this, it wasn't that hard. 'Just stand and talk to him' he tought. 

But Grantaire was still sitting and he realised his fingers were so tight around his coffee cup there was no more blood in them. He took a deep breath and began to stand but Enjolras had stopped what he was doing to lean and talk to his best friends. Grantaire stopped too and if he heard what they were saying, it wasn't his fault, was it ?

"Courf', 'Ferre, when do you want to go home ? Of course, Jehan, you are welcome too " 

The latest smiled widely but Combeferre shook his head though.

"We thought we would go to Jehan's tonight. They have something they want to show us. If that's okay with you, we can postpone if you want."  
"No, no, take your night. I'll be fine." Enjolras smiled but it was clear something was bothering him.  
"You're sure ?" Asked Courfeyrac, "Because as has said 'Ferre, we can go another time..."  
"No, it's okay, don't worry and enjoy yourselves." 

He let the silence step for a second, looked at the window where they could see the darkness of the night. He started again :

"Well, I think I'm gonna head home, it's turning late and I have an essay to write." 

The three of them smiled at him but Grantaire could see the worry in their eyes.

"We can't see the stars tonight, it's a sad night. I can feel the birds crying" 

Courfeyrac hugged Jehan and Combeferre started to reassure them talking about the moth that may survive more due to the absence of the starlight. They were really perfect for each other. 

Enjolras stood up and collected the rest of his stuff, but then he looked again at the window and shivered discretely. It was clear to Grantaire that the man was, for some reason, reluctant to go outside. Combeferre, who had also noticed, looked at his friend and asked with his eyes if everything was alright. Enjolras answered by a reassuring smile but it didn't reach his eyes. 

It was always impressive to witness this kind of discussion between the two of them. They knew each other so well there were no need for words anymore. Grantaire decided to take this as an opportunity to talk to Enjolras privately. He loved his friends but they could be a little bit intrusive concerning his feelings for the man. He approached him and before he could lose his courage, dared to talk. 

"I heard you were going home, I am too. Do you want us to go together ? My flat is not far from yours."

It was a lie and everybody knew that but Enjolras didn't argued. He even relaxed a little. 

"Sure, if it doesn't bother you."  
"I offered, you know. Common, let's go." Grantaire turned to face the others. "We are going home, good bye everyone !" 

Bahorel chuckled when he saw who was with Grantaire.

"Be safe, you two, don't forget to use protections !" said Feuilly with a smirk. 

Everyone laughed, it was a current joke. They were all waiting and betting for them to start a relationship together. Enjolras was entirely oblivious to that but Grantaire knew the whole thing, he had also bet that it would never happen.

He looked at Enjolras with an apologetic smile and a hard blush. Usually Enjolras would be as red as his coat. He was really a modest man and Combeferre had confess one day that their leader had never been in a relationship and was a bit uncomfortable with the subject. 

But now he was paler than ever, his eyes wide in terror. Grantaire tried to not be too hurt, was he really that disgusting ? The laughs and smiles faded away. Grantaire cleared his throat akwardly. 

"So now you know there is no need. Bye Everyone." 

And he left to wait outside, not wanting to see their pity. When Enjolras arrived he was completely recomposed. 

"Thank you for coming with me but you could stay with them you know."  
"Do you want me to?"  
"No !" He protested loudly, and Grantaire noticed an ounce of fear in his tone. "I mean, I'm glad you're here, really, but I am not the best compagny so I would understand if you rather be with the others."  
"As I said, I offered, so no I don't want to stay."  
"Thank you." 

It was barrely a murmure, Grantaire wasn't sure he heard it. They stayed in an akward silence, none of them started to move.

"So... Show me the way to your flat before we freeze and become ice statue. I don't want to end up like Anna in Frozen."  
"Right, sorry." 

And Enjolras leaded the way. They walked side by side in a not-so-akward silence. Grantaire was very aware of there proximity. If he moved a little his hand he could grab Enjolras'. But he knew his action wouldn' t be appreciated so he kept it as a dream. Halfway he decided to force his chance.

"Listen, Apollo, I... I wanted to apologise for the other day..."  
"Apologise ?"  
"Yes, for, you know, what I said at your last meeting. Look, I was drunk, and I know it's not an excuse but I didn't think at all before talking so I'm sorry."  
"Don't worry, it's fine, I was mean too and for no reason. I'm also sorry."  
"Really ? Because, no offense dude, but you look like shit. And you barricaded yourself for a whole week so I can tell that it's not fine."  
"Oh."  
Congratulation R ! What a way to tell this !  
"I'm sorry I shouldn't.."  
"Don't apologise" 

Grantaire's mouth shut automatically. He watched Enjolras who was frowning at his own thoughts.

"You think I was absent because of what you said?"  
"Were you not ?! Because I said those terrible things and then you hid from everyone so..."  
"It was just a combination of factors, God, R, I'm really sorry you thought otherwise." his tone was very soft. "As I said, I had a bad flue and I was sleeping all the time, and if I wasn't, I was trying to get some job done so yes, your words did hurt but they were true and I needed to hear them, I guess, so it's okay."

He was rambling and Grantaire could tell he was hiding something but he didn't know if it was in his right to push. Grantaire was sure Combeferre had already tried and if Combeferre himself hadn't succeded, there was no way he could, so he just accepted the lie.

"Oh, that's great, I suppose, that you're not mad at me." He took a deep breath. "You are wrong though. What I said was just some random bullshit from a drunkard. You have to keep fighting for your cause and to never stop believe in it because if you can't hope no one can." 

Grantaire felt himself blushing hard as he fixated his gaze on his shoes. He wanted to comfort Enjolras but his stupid mind couldn't formulate good sentences. He shut his mouth before another stupidity escaped him and kept walking. 

After some minutes Enjolras broke the silence. 

"What a faithfull sentence for a declared cynic." 

Grantaire dared a quick look at Enjolras who had a small smile on his face. Grantaire couldn't help but smiled too. 

"Well, I guess every cynic have their moment of weakness. Maybe you are convincing me, be carefull !" 

And so they spent the rest of the journey doing small talk. They were so caught in their discussion they didn't realise they had stopped in front of Enjolras' building. At some point he looked at his watch.

"God 'Taire it's already half past eleven. Do you want to come in ?"

Grantaire was tempted, he wasn't ready to go back back to his flat/studio. There were no more bus and he knew he wouldn't be able to catch the last suburban. 

"I don't want to impose."  
"But you won't. There are two free bedrooms tonight. And I can make some special Courfeyrac tea." 

He couldn't resist a special Courfeyrac tea.

"If you use my greatest flaw like that, how could I refuse?" 

They both entered the flat and Grantaire was shocked by the calm aura. He already went there but it always was at parties or weird movie nights organised by Courfeyrac. Now it was empty and very clean but warm and cosy at the same time. Enjolras guided him toward the bedroom that was once Courf's before he started dating Jehan and Combeferre. 

"You can borrow pajamas and take a shower if you want. I'm gonna make the tea." And he left to go to the kitchen.

Grantaire went to the bathroom, took a shower, tried to brush his hair, failed, and looked at himself in the mirror. The clothes weren't his size but it could have been worse. 

He joined Enjolras in the living room guided by the smell of the tea. They drank slowly talking about nothing and everything at the same time. When Grantaire finished his cup of tea, he realised he hadn't thought about alcohol since he left the Musain. That was a record ! 

It was two in the morning when Enjolras declared it was bedtime. Grantaire wanted to protest but a yawn betrayed him and he was forced to admit he was indeed exhausted. He closed his room's door happier than ever in a long time. 

He felt like he was finally able to call himself a friend of Enjolras.


	4. Au bord du précipice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone ! I'm back with a chapter more violent than the last one. Be carefull as there is a depiction of a panic attack (based on what I read), hate for an unwanted child, discussion of abortion and an anger crisis.  
> Is it too much ? Probably  
> Also, I didn't use the real laws about abortion in America and France, I invented for the story and it's not a personnal political or ethical opinion. Enjoy the chapter !

He was sitting in the middle of his bathroom, the devilish box in front of him. He knew he would eventually have to open and use it but, for now, he could only stare at it, paralised by the fear of what it could mean.

He had thought about it two months ago after Feuilly's joke but preferred to forget the growing doubt in his chest. There were so many other things to do, he had to make up for his poli-sci classes, write essays and speeches for the ABC, he couldn't let his personnal life interfere with all of this.

But after last week he couldn't stay blind to the signs any longer. He had bought it then and looked at the box every single night finding new excuses to postpone its use. But now... If he didn't do it now, and if he was right, it would be soon too late.

Enjolras took a deep breath, grabbed the box and read the instructions for the hundredth time. The letters were in a blurry black line under his gaze but he knew the words by heart. He listed the symptoms in his mind again :

  
-Nausea, yes  
-Vomiting, yes  
-Bulimic crisis or other eating disorder, yes  
-Cessation of menstruations, yes  
-Any sexual act in the close past, well...

  
He sighed and held himself a little. He couldn't let himself remember that, not now.

So, obviously to overthink about it wasn't helping at all. Enjolras shut his eyes and tried to shut his thoughts as well. It was only a test, no real risk, except for the one.

Suddenly he stood up and opened the box. The offensive instrument was there, innocent to the panic it was causing to the fair-haired man. He took it slowly between only two fingers and immediately put it down on the sink. How long had he become such a coward ? Before, if he saw a problem coming he would have go ahead and find a solution. Now he couldn't even make the first step.

He ran a hand trough his hair and forced himself to look in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes deepened every day after nights of insomnia and days of worry about what could happen. But apart from that he could tell he looked better than during the last two months when he went to the point where he didn't recognise himself anymore. And he knew his friends had noticed too. They all tried to ask if everything was alright, they tried so many times he ended up feeling like a broken record, always saying "yes i'm fine" or "everything's alright". It didn't satisfied his friends but they abandonned there investigation when they understood he wouldn't change his answer. As they respected his privacy, he thought he might convinced himself about his well being. And it almost worked ! Almost. Now he was on the verge of returning to his previous state.

He took the item again, put it down, took it and, with a noise full of frustration, finally used it. After the ackward moment done he felt releived. He did it, the worst was done ! Or so he believed, what a fool was he. It was crual to make people wait five whole minutes. When scientists created this object, did they really think it was a good idea to put five minutes of doubt while you don't know if your life is going to change entirely ? It was the second longest waiting he ever did in his life, top one being... No he wouldn't think about top one.

He started laughing histerically as he imagined himself : a tall blond ball, curled up on the floor. The waiting was driving him insane. He pushed himself up and walked from a wall to the other trying to foccus more on his feet than his thoughts. He failed miserably. The walcking trick only emplified his heartbeat which was already too fast.

When he fell on his knees as the world vanished, he realised what was happening. He tried to grab something around him, anything, to find an anchor but there was nothing except for the cold floor and darkness. He couldn't move, couldn't breath. Why couldn't he breath ? There was no air in his lungs and nowhere around. He couldn't feel himself except for a soaring pain in his chest. Panic fell all over his body in strong waves. He was drowning under the terror and everytime he thought his mind was finally clearing up another wave came back to prove him wrong. Memories he had tried to forget reappeared and he was forced to live them again.

The dark street, the man. His father, the office. A calleous hand was on his chest as another one, full of rings, slapped his face His father slammed the door, everything was dark and the man took his jeans off and pushed him on the floor. But he never reached the ground, he kept falling deeper and deeper in the murkyest part of his brain. He wanted to stop and to breath but he couldn't.

A little bit of air came into his lungs. Enjolras realised his mouth was open and foccused on it. He could do it, one breath, and another and another. Slowly he could feel his hands again, they were stucked in his hair. He made them slide gently upon his face wiping some tears at the same time. He took in a deep breath and exhaled longly, it still wasn't enough air but it was better.

It was only bad memories, nightmares and he was a man of reason. He opened his eyes and it was over. He was alone, in his bathroom, and safe.

With shaking hands he freed himself of the bandages around his chest. He had to be able to breath fully. He knew he souldn't squeeze himself so tight but a little bit of difficulty to breath wasn't a big cost for a flat chest and less disphoria.

He looked at his watch and remembered why he was there in the first time. He sighed, wishing he could go back to his life before this whole mess started. He stood up uncertain on his still shaking legs. The result was there, one meter away. Could he finally forget what happened or will his world turn upside down ?

The logical part of his brain was telling him to just look at it and then act depending on the result. But there was also this other part of him, an insane fear and a lot of other feelings he was so used to push away he didn't know their names anymore. He was so tired he wanted to go to bed and forget the world around him but he knew that if he tried to sleep the nightmares would come back. Everytime he closed his eyes he was back on the street.

He knew Combeferre or Joly would have an answer to his problem but if he started to tell them about his insomnia he knew he would also explain everything else and he couldn't do that. He couldn't ask for their help and tell them it's been years he had lied to all of his friends. He could already see the disppointed look in Combeferre's eyes and it was impossible for him to stand it in his imagination yet.

And if he told one of his friends it was the same as if he told all of them. He loved them, they were all like a part of a whole but the intimacy made almost impossible to have secrets. He knew already how the information would be spread. If he told 'Ferre, 'Ferre would tell Courf' and Courfeyrac and secrets... it wasn't a good mise. On the other hand, if he told Joly he was sure Bossuet and Musichetta would be aware within ten minutes and then it'd be over, anyone would know.

Enjolras shook his head as a weak smile appeared on his face. As much as he loved thinking about his friends it wasn't the time nor the place. He looked at the tool patiently waiting on the sink and crossed the ultimate meter, a new energy spreading in his body thanks to the mental picture of his friends gossiping around. He inhaled, exhaled, and looked at the result.

  
_"So, Marie-Jeanne, you must believe sixteen is too young for that, but it's never too soon to think about your future. That's why your father and I have looked for you some young gentlemen that might fit the purpose. We decided to invite them to the gala next week and then you'll chose which one you consider to be a part of your future."_

_"Being a part of my future" repeated Enjolras who understood too well what his mother was talking about "You want me to chose a husband when I'm just out of my teenage years ?" he asked quite not believing it was really happening now._

_"No, not really a husband. Just a good pretendant that might become your fiancé and yes in the future, but only then, your husband. As I said, it's never too soon to think about that, look at me, I married your father when I was 19 and it allowed to do so much for his carreer !"_

_"Was it your choice ? Are you happy about it?"_

_"Women do as men ask them to do, it's how it works"_

_"And what do I have to do ? Just wait and obey as the perfect little girl I have never been ?"_

_"Yes, Marie-Jeanne, exactly."_

_"Is that what you did ?!"_

_"Yes."_

_As she saw the consterned look on Enjolras' face she sighed_

_"Your father doesn't love me anymore, he wanted my wealth and my body so he agreed to marriage. I was as pretty as you, deary, and my father wanted me to make a good wedding. I cried for a long time and then I got lover. I lied, I cheated but I did as I was told to do. You are lucky enough to be able to chose between seven gentlemen so you will marry one as I married your father and give the family a heir..."_

_"A heir ?! Mother, do you hear yourself ? We are not in a monarchy anymore ! If I have to marry someone it certainely wouldn't be for the family legacy. What about freedom, beauty, truth, love?"_

_"Love is not the wedding and the wedding is not love. You will have a child and become a_ _respectuous lady mother in the high society."_

  
Well, what would she think if she could see him now ? A pregnant broken man.

There was no doubt anymore, the big positive symbole with a smiley couldn't fool anyone. He felt as he should have cried but he was desperatly tearless. He was empty on the inside and so, so tired.

He couldn't say he was surprise, of course. Of course he would have the whole thing after what happened. He may not be Bossuet but he had never been a proof of good luck either so there was indeed very little chance for him to be able to just forget about that night and then nothing to happen.

So, Enjolras was pregnant. It was quite a new to take in. He swallowed his saliva with difficulty. He didn't know if it was a good thing or not his brain was so cleared. He was at all of his mental capacities which means he was terribly aware of his condition and what was going to happen.

He took a moment to think about it, about the living being growing in his body. Almost immediately he felt hate toward this unwanted child, coming into his life, growing up slowly against his will. The child, faetus, thing was stealing his body already barrely his. He looked in the mirror and what he saw made him sick.

He was already disgusted by his chest, whith its destroyed breast because of the bandages. And now his belly was also betraying him. He wanted to get rid of it, to get rid of this monstruosity inside of him. How could such a horrible act lead to something good ? It wasn't possible, the thing would be a fruit from despaire and violence. He had to destroy it while it wasn't too late. He already had waited too much time. He needed to find a way to go back to normal without anyone noticing.

Enjolras really wanted to call Combeferre and Courfeyrac, he wanted to tell his brothers of heart everything. He wanted 'Ferre to give him solutions and Courf' to hold his hands and tell him everything's gonna be alright. He saw his friends do that for the others. In fact, he knew how each of his friends would react if one day Enjolras was to declare he wasn't ok.

While Jehan would write him a poem about everything they like about him, Bahorel was more the type to offer to punch the one who made him feel bad. Feuilly would be there, engaging a debate to entertain him and still let him know there's always an ear to listen to him. For their part, Joly would overwork himself on researches about every illness he might have and Bossuet, after making Joly relax a little, would try his best to make him laugh.

And Grantaire. Enjolras didn't know if Grantaire would ever want to comfort him. Sure they were more friends than ever but there still was an akward feeling between the two of them, as if Grantaire knew the blond's feelings for him. Enjolras didn't know what Grantaire would do for him but he knew he wanted the strong arms of the cynic around him and they would never let him go. He wanted this man to hug him and brush his hair as his mother once did a long time ago. He wanted to love openly and to know he was loved in return.

But he couldn't have him, he couldn't have any of his friends to comfort him because they wouldn't want him, not after he had lied so much about his life and his failures to them. He didn't even deserve their pity. He would lose their respect, their trust but most importantly their friendship and their love. He already had put himself in a difficult position by not telling them he was trans and now, with the betrayal of his body, he was doomed.

The hate for the thing in him reached its climax. He couldn't bear it.

Suddenly he took the pregnancy test and threw it against the mirror, breaking it with a cry of rage. Irrational thoughts invaded his mind. Why was it happening to him ? Wasn't it already enough to be a failure ? To be broken ? It had to get worse !

Enjolras was destroying everything around him. The glass, previously containing his toothbrush, was now in pieces on the floor, joining the broken parts of the mirror. He stepped on it creating cuts on his feet but he didn't notice. He continue to take and ripped the stuff around him. He's been told when he was young he had an anger issue. His parents had paid a very expensive private therapist to fix him. If Enjolras didn't learn how to handle his feelings he did learn how to hide them, and it worked for his parents, his classmates, the adults around him and at some point maybe for himself.

But now there was the proof that all this years of repressing any emotions he didn't know how to handle only made it worse for the explosions. He was ripping his hair and punching the walls, throwing everything he could grab. His sight was covered by a read veil and his ears were ringing. He was like his 8 year-old self, unchained, all his feelings releived like the four winds, no more restrictions, no more controle. His body was full of fire willing to freedom. Maybe he screamed, maybe he only bit his lips and his tongue in frustration, probably the last one as he felt a taste of blood in his mouth. Everything he did was registered only seconds after by his brain.

But slowly the tempests calmed themselves and exhaustion invaded his body and his mind. The fire was gone. He sat on the floor between glass pieces, pharmacologist products and other stuff. He looked at the mess he created and was thankfull crisis like this one didn't happen often anymore.

The last time was after a particularly hard fight between him and Grantaire, when he understand back at home with Combeferre that what he felt for the drunkard wasn't just exasperation and frustration because of his inability to undersand him. He had then destroyed his kitchen and afterwards he had to buy a new set of plates and glasses.

Because Combeferre was there to witness the crisis he had to explain to him about his anger issue. At least he wasn't lying about that part of himself even if he had made 'Ferre swear to never tell anyone else. His best friend first disapproved, saying it would be better if the others knew his anger was an issue and not true cruality but he respected that their fearless leader didn't want to show his lack of controle. They never talked about it after the accident but Enjolras knew Combeferre hadn't forget. The man, bless his soul, always did his best to attenuate conflicts around him

But this time Enjolras was alone. With a sigh he thought the mess in the room was not even the half of the mess in his mind. He pushed himself up and began to clean up. His brain was back to its logic and pragmatic self. He was still angry at the thing in his body but he was more at himself and it wasn't on an irrational way anymore. He was finally able to think.

As he took the last pieces of glass on the ground and in his feet, he considered his options toward abortion. Yes, abortion, because it wasn't a possibility to keep it. He couldn't have a child when he wasn't able to take care of himself. It wasn't fair to the child and he didn't want it anyway. Now that he was sure about that part of the plan he had to decide where and how. The when was, of course, as soon as posssible, before it became too obvious to hide for the others.

About the where, there were two solutions. First he could do this in New York. Even if abortion was illegale in all the United States of America, he knew there were places and people who could do it for the right amount of money. It wasn't a safe way and it was very expensive but it was close to home. The other solution implied to cross the ocean and return to his old country, to abandon his life for a little while but also to be safe and have a legale operation. He could make it happen easily thanks to his double nationality. It was a risk, he would have to lie again but it wouldn't be a really long trip, only the matter of days, maybe weeks but not too much. The problem was the difficulty he would face when it'd be the moment to convince his friends to let him go.

It was a hard choice to make. It seemed easier to just stay in America and to pretend to be sick again while he does the operation but he wasn't sure he wanted to pay an enormous price to be mutilated. On the other hand, the trip to France implied time, a bit of money too and a lie, but he would be safe.

He could almost hear Combeferre and Joly screaming in his mind to chose the safe way. In the past he had made some researches about illegal abortion in the United States for an ABC work, what he saw there were too many accidents, forever mutilated women and even dead people.

As the last image entered his mind he knew he had made his choice. He had to leave the country, it might be hard but once it'd be done everything would be back to normal. Enjolras finished to clean the bathroom, he would have to buy a new mirror. It was past one in the morning. He abandoned the idea to sleep knowing the nightmares would come as soon as he closed his eyes.

Instead he chose to take his laptop and look for planes to France and hospitals practicing IVG there. The prices at Paris were awfull, much more than what he could afford and probably above what could afford the majority of Parisian citizens. He looked for the other places, it was always in big cities : Lyon, Strasbourg, Marseille, Rennes and it still was expensive but less than the illegale operation in New York and way less than the Paris one. He chose Rennes as it was the closer one to the capitale and so the easier to go by train after the plane. Alas it wasn't possible to take an appointment by phone call or email so he had to be there really quickly.

He also wanted to attend a last ABC meeting to tell his friends about his departure. The next one was in four days and there was a plane in five at six in the morning. He bought a ticket and started to prepare his suitcase while thinking about an excuse to tell the others to justify his prompt leaving. He knew it would be hard, he didn't want to let them but he knew it was for the best of all of them.

As he finished to collect his necessarities it was already seven in the morning. He instantly stopped and started to prepare for his first lectures, another thing he'd have to abandon during his journey. He didn't have time to do other things than dress up and grab his stuff. He ran out of his flat forgetting to lock it and hoped he'd have the time to take a coffee. He was in need for this kind of energy to survive the day after another sleepless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story Enjolras doesn't have a binder, he just put bandages around his breast, just for you to know.  
> If you spot the reference to the musical Roméo et Juliette you are awesome and if you spot the reference to Moulin Rouge, well, it was pretty obvious but you are awesome too.  
> Thank you reading !


	5. Ce n'est qu'un au revoir mon frère

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello ! Warnings as usual, this chapter includes drinking and that's pretty all, it's clearly less violent than the last one.  
> Sorry it took so long to come, it was hard to write and then prep school stuff and all that jazz...  
> Enjoy your reading !

Once again he was in advance for the meeting. He should really give up this habbit. Maybe now he was aware of the topic of the meetings but he was also a longer time in presence of easy alcohol. Which meant he was more likely to be plainly drunk before it even starts.

So here he was, the only one of his friends at the counter of the Café Musain, the cheapest bottle of wine in front of him. The others would start coming in about ten minutes since the meeting started in fifteen. Usually Enjolras would have been there already but he was still no really himself lately. It was certainly better than before, Enjolras was trying his best to look like his older self. And it has been working on his friends so far. They were sure their leader was fine and they began to forget this weird week and categorize it as a very bad flue.

But the little show didn't work on Grantaire. After spending two years studying his blond angel he could tell, even drunk, that Enjolras had put a mask on. Something was off. He didn't ask though, even if they were friends now, he knew it wasn't his place to make Enjolras confess, that was Combeferre and Courfeyrac's job. And it was also a little creepy to come "Hey, I know you are hiding your true feelings because I have been a stalker since I met you ! How are you doing ?"

He poured himself another glass knowing he still had time before geting drunk. He had noticed though that he started to drink less now that he was closer to Enjolras. It was nicer to debate with his ideas clear than to turn a simple political argument into a personal fight. Of course there were still these kind of scenes when Enjolras lost his temper and Grantaire his brain. Those always resulted with the artist passed out on his floor in hope he could forget the crual words they both exchanges.

It had happened at the last meeting and Grantaire woke up alone in his flat, a bottle of aspirin on the chair next to him with a note from Éponine. He had a terrible headache but still went to his lecture because he was too proud to admit to the others that he was just an unusefull drunkard (he knew he was one but there was no point to confirm it to the others). He regretted it though when he assisted for the fifth time to a study of the famous Da Vinci chiaroscuro. He already knew the historic and theoric background of the subject, he had nothing to learn there and a terrible hungover to fight. At the end of the class he just crashed on his bed not even knowing how he managed to go back to his place. Éponine was not there for the meeting this night, she had to take her brother at school.

Even if Gavroche still lived with his parents, more or less, Éponine was doing her best to take care of him in hope that one day she'll be his official guardian. They already wanted to try but the lawyers were too expensive so they decided to wait for Marius to become one. All of les amis had already started to collect evidences and informations to prove the abuse of the Thénardiers. Grantaire had also noticed his best friend had started to save money for a bigger flat and so he did the same. He didn't tell her, she didn't need to be rescued, but he knew that if there was an emergency they wouldn't be helpless.

Both of them were best friends since highschool, a similar situation, the same shitty family, even if Grantaire was sure Eponine's parents were hors catégorie. Both of them had a part time job in a bar. It meant they could exchange shifts or sometimes, work together. They were a great pair and their boss liked it. He knew Grantaire was friendly enough to customers for them to want to stay and come back and Éponine was scarry enough for tough guys to avoid to start fights. The rare one that attempted to hit on her finished with a broken nose or a broken arm and the legend of a violent barista you'd better not piss off had spread across the city.

On the days they both worked together, les amis always managed to take care of Gavroche before Éponine could bring him home. They all had done it once or twice but most of the time the child ended up with Jehan or Enjolras. Bossuet and Courfeyrac were banned of the job after the first one lost the child and broke his leg letting Gavroche having to take care of him instead of the other way, and the other one was found, unsurprisingly, to be more a child than the actual one and they both ended up covered in glitters.

Because Bossuet was always with Joly and Chetta, all three rarely had to look for the eight year old, and anyway, Joly was to stressed to do this. Another excused one was Feuilly who had too many jobs added to his studies. He was always working at the same hours than Eponine and Grantaire. As for the others, well, Gavroche clearly stated that he prefered Jehan and their weird poetic language, how they always helped him with his litterature classes and brang him to talk to plants, wich was odd but also very calming. And strangely enough there was Enjolras too. It surprised all of them when Gavroche declared the fearless leader his favorite, they couldn't imagine how their impassionate friend who was so foccused on his work could be intertaining for a child. But it was a fact and they all recognised the bond that grew between them. When Eponine asked him why he simply answered that he wasn't just a little boy with Enjolras. Grantaire suspected the blond man to convert Gavroche into a deluded optimist which was tough for a eight year old but Grantaire couldn't complain knowing it was way better to be a mistaken believer than a depressed sceptic like him. And Enjolras was always there for Gavroche, even during the last two months which was quite surprising.

Grantaire was woken up crom his thought as a hand was put on his shoulders. He realises someone was talking to him. He turned around and saw Bahorel smiling at him, waiting for an answer.

"Sorry mate, I didn't hear you."

"I said you should come boxing with me soon or later or you're gonna loose all your amazing capacities sitting and drinking here all day." he laughed

"Hey ! I wasn't here all day ! And if I don't come it's because I care for your safety, I don't want you to be all bruised because of me."

"You bet, come and I'll show you who is the boss here."

And of course, Courfeyrac arrived then.

"I don't know what was the begining of the conversation but I surely didn't want to hear that ! Come on, Baz, I could have swear you were straight."

" You consider every dude who doesn't want to fuck you straight, Courf'. " he deadpanned.

"Maybe, but I'm right."

"Just for this one..."

"You know it's not true. So, how are we the first ones here ? Where's Enj ?"

Grantaire groaned "Not arrived yet for what I know."

"It doesn't look like him, it's not normal." Courfeyrac said with a concerned look.

'Of course it's not normal !' Grantaire wanted to scream 'Can't you see he is not well !' But he couldn't say it out loud, it was not his place. He forced himself to shut up as Bahorel started talking again.

"Don't worry, Courf', our fearless leader probably forgot to stop working on whatever poli-sci essay or maybe another ABC speech."

"You must be right." And as simple as that his worry was washed off. "Come we should prepare the backroom."

They entered it and started to set it up cor the soon coming meeting. They were supposed to work on a new topic but because of last time fight they didn't have time to vote one before Combeferre asked everyone to go home so Grantaire and Enjolras wouldn't start to murder each other.

There weren't many things to prepare then, so they quickly sat and started a card game, a Président. When Joly and Bossuet arrived, Musichetta still working, they just sat with them and entered the game. Feuilly arrived soon after, pulled a chair and joined them. He was exhausted but still able to win. They all knew he was cheating but they never found out how so they only could shout at him. Combeferre and Jehan brought the calm over the group again when they arrived. They both kissed Courfeyrac's cheeks and while Jehan sat on his lap to help him play in what Grantaire considered as a discustingly tooth rooting sweet way. Combeferre opened his laptop and check the official ABC mail box.

After ten minutes he violently closed it which drawn on him everyone's intention.

"Where is Enjolras ?"

Grantaire saw the chock in his friends' eyes when they realised he was the only one missing. Musichetta was working, Eponine with Gavroche and Cosette and Marius on a date. Enjolras was late and the last one they were waiting for. Courfeyrac took his phone

"I'll call him."

"Put your speakers on please." Combeferre's tone was cold but it was always this way when he was worried.

They were all silent and Grantaire realised he was stupidly holding his breath.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Four

"Yes, Courf' ?" Enjolras's voice was as cold as Combeferre's one but it was always this way when he was talking on his phone too.

"Just so you know you're on speakers which means all of us can hear you, hum, where are you ?"

"On my way." 

"Are you alright ?"

"Yes."

"Wow, okay, er..."

Combeferre took the phone and turned the speakers off.

"Enj, what's happening ?"

Frustration appeared on the guide's face as Enjolras spoke, his answer unheard by the others.

"You're not on speakers anymore, now stop being a jerk and tell what'happening ?"

There was a small pause in which they could all hear Enjolras' muffled voice. Thet couldn't recognise a word but they could hear he was upset.

"What was that sound ?" Combeferre asked interupting his friend's rambling.

A heavy silence followed the question on the phone and in the room. Les amis all tryed to hear what Enjolras would answer to this impromptu question.

"Enjolras tell me it's not... You're on your way, sure. Listen, Enjolras, it better not have been your keys I just heard."

Grantaire would have laugh if it wasn't for his worry. For Enjolras to be late was really rare, but to lie to his friends ? It was so wrong. Grantaire finished his bottle to swallow his stress. It didn't work. They all watched Combeferre hung up and put his head in his hands while he sat down. After a few deep breaths he spoje again.

"Well, he is on his way and he asked to not start the meeting because he has an announcement to make, so if i were you I'd keep playing these cards."

Surprised looks were exchanged between the friends and they started whispering, wondering what was happening. Enjolras always insisted to keep the meetings for ABC's causes, personal stuff was at the end of the meeting or another day. It had to be really important for him to ignore his own rule. Grantaire didn't know at all what announcement the blond could make. Sometimes they would talk passionately, sometimes they would argue. It was better than before between them but he knew he couldn't say the same for Enjolras alone. At this point everything was possible.

"Hi, everyone. Sorry I'm late."

Grantaire blinked in shock, his eyes were glued on the door but he still had miss Enjolras steping in. And it seemed everyone had too considering the mess their leader created in the room. A heavy laugh that could only come from Bahorel was heared and everyone looked at him and then followed his gaze.

From what Grantaire could see it seemed Bossuet had fallen from his chair and brought Joly in his fall because the last one was on the torso of the first one, lying on the floor. Joly was struggling to stand up because of his leg and Jehan, bless their soul, was the first one to react and help their friend.

They were, with Combeferre, the only ones not surprised by Enjolras sudden apparition. Feuilly had dropped the cards which were now everywhere, including but not limited to his own cofee and Bossuet's face. Courfeyrac was dramaticaly breathing a hand on his heart. And the others weren't in better states.

"I didn't know I was this scarry" Enjolras said with a small chuckle.

This sound was Grantaire's favorite and he couldn't help himself but reply

"Look at us, bless by the god Apollo himself !"

"I'm not a god, Grantaire." Enjolras sighed.

"We could discuss about that, look at you : beautiful, wonderful, smart believer, you..."

"Thank you, Grantaire. I'm dure you have a whole new set of arguments to prove your point" Combeferre interverned "But if I remember well, Enjolras has something to say."

The man in question paled slightly at that.

"Yes, 'Ferre you're right."

Grantaire noticed his hands shaking as he put them on the top of a chair. Everyone was silent, waiting for their leader to go on.

"I... it's a bit hard to say, sorry."

Jehan intervened " Don't worry, we are here to help, no matter what."

"I know, I just.." he shut himself once again and started to bite his lips.

He turned over with a frustration noise, not being able to make a speech was new for him. He reopened his mouth but no sound came of it. His head lowered, Grantaire could almost see a scheme forming in his mind, but he was saved to an other failed attempt to speak by Musichetta's arrival. She has just finished her shift and brought two cofees for her boyfriends.

"What a heavy silence" she said "Be glad Chetta's here to lighten up the mood !"

She kissed Joly and Bossuet, sat on the later's lap her hand dancing through the medical student's hair.

"So, what happened ? What did I miss ? Did you choose a new topic to work on ?"

Bossuet whispered something in her ear and her wide smile faded away.

"What is it, Enjolras ?"

The man in question sighed quietly and took a time to put his thoughts together. No one dared to talk.

"Ok, you all know I'm not just American, right ?"

They all noded not quite sure what would come from that.

"Well, the fact is.., the fact is that, hum, I have to leave and go back to France."

After a moment a silence for everyone to register the information, Courfeyrac broke it with his loud laugh.

"What ?! You make up a big and serious scene just to tell us that you're going on a trip to your grand parents ?!"

A few of them laughed at this point but Grantaire, and he knew he wasn't the onky one to felt that way, he had a bitter taste on his tongue, he knew it wasn't just that. Combeferre squeezed Jehan's hand.

"Courf', please."

Enjolras had once more lowered his head, he cleared his throat.

"It's not just a trip, Courf'." his voice was really soft but it was enough to bring the silence back.

"What do you mean ?"

"I'm leaving. I'll come back but I don't know when. Maybe in two months maybe less, maybe more."

Grantaire felt suddenly ill. Why ? His Apollo, his muse, his angel, leaving ? _No._

"Grantaire ?"

Shit, he said it out loud, and this time he couldn't back up.

"No, Enjolras, you can't go. You can't leave us." "I'm sorry but I have to."

"Really though ? Look at us, Courfeyrac is speechless, Jehan is crying and it will soon be Joly's turn. Combeferre might be hiding it but I'm sure he is hurt."

As he heard his name the guide nodded, his sad eyes looking nowhere.

"And I could go on . Don't you see how the simple thought of you leaving affect us ? Don't you know how it will be once you're left ?"

"I'm sorry but I have to." he repeated "But why ? For an old grandmother no one ever heard about before ?"

"Exactly."

It was a lie and everyone knew it but they also knew Enjolras would not tell the truth.

"Alright then, have a nice trip."

And he left. He left because he couldn't bear all the eyes on them, nor Enjolras' lie or stubborness. He left because he couldn't let him say good bye. He left so Enjolras wasn't the one who left.

He went directly to his shitty studio, took a bottle of vodka (he always had one or two) and drank half of it, barrely noticing that Eponine was still not there. What had he done ? Why was Enjolras runing away from him and his friends ? He sat in his kitchen side, the bootle in front of him and he put his head in his hands in a copy of Combeferre. He wasn't surprise when his hands came out wet.

He laughed at how pityful he was. Who was he to pretend to be one of the most hurted by Enjolras' departure ? How would be Combeferre and Courfeyrac, the blond's best friends ? And how about Jehan ? They were like a sponge with feelings, with their boyfriends suffering they would be full of hurt.

And there was Gavroche, the poor boy will be devasted, he loved the man. The phone in his pocket vibrated bring him back to reality with his cheap bottle of vodka still half empty in front of him.

He took his phone, blinked because of the violent light and struggled to see through his tears what was written. There were some missed calls from Bahorel, Jehan and Joly who also reminded him to drink enough water. There were texts from everyone, all were wondering if he was ok and to not drink to much. But nothing from Enjolras. It increased his feeling of guilt, they had to take care of him while he was nothing. Nothing in comparison to Enolras and all of his friends.

He quickly replied in a groupe text that he was ok and at home and that he wasn't the one to be afraid for for now. Then he turned off his phone. He didn't want to know their answers.

He drank the last sip of vodka. It wasn't enough to knock himself out so he looked for another one. But as he was in front of the two untouched bottles hiden in his cupboard he realised how disgusting he was. Just a stupid drunkard who made go away the most important person in his life.

In an unprepared gesture he threw them in the trash. If Enjolras couldn't be friend with a stupid alcoholic then he would regret not meeting sober Grantaire. Sadness and desperation turned into bitterness and strongness.

He was determined to change not for anyone but to prove himself he didn't need anyone to live. But deep inside he knew he will always be in love with Enjolras.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you if you came so far, I hope you liked it !


End file.
